Late at night in Melbourne a young man massacres the passengers
on a city train carriage, leaving a sole, traumatised survivor
(Maia Thomas).

At the same time, a policeman suffering from tinnitus (Brendan
Cowell) collapses on an escalator and demands to be assigned to
lighter duties.

Hes asked to man a police caravan outside a milk bar in an
industrial outer suburb, where the killers most recent victim
was last seen buying "a packet of Alpine Lights and a diet
Coke".

Matthew Saville has done some exceptional work as a TV director,
but in this first feature he seizes the opportunity to articulate a
vision of his own. The look is grainy and sombre, the milieu
plausibly drab.

The city rumbles and clatters like a giant machine gone awry,
while the widescreen compositions, often divided into segments by
doorways or mirrors, seem ready to collapse into impenetrable
murk.

For all this, Saville has considerable reserves of dry wit and
makes superbly sarcastic use of Aussie vernacular. Hes aided
by Cowell, who sports a grin of dumb insolence belying his
characters smarts and stretches out vowels as if for his own
amusement.